


Like a Snowflake, You're One of a Kind

by Squirrel_Stone



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F, Female Zoisite, Fluff, Grandma Martha coming through in the clutch, Post-Surgery, Transgender Zoisite, fem!Zoisite, someone protect zena from her mom's cooking, trans!Zoisite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squirrel_Stone/pseuds/Squirrel_Stone
Summary: A collection of fluffy Zoicury oneshots based on various prompts.





	Like a Snowflake, You're One of a Kind

Zena panted, exhausted as she made it back to her apartment. Her eyes darted from the couch in the living room to the door that led to the bedroom, and she realized she had an important decision to make. Was the warm, cozy bed worth the extra steps?

…Nope.

Gracelessly, Zena flopped down on the sofa, moaning in pain. “Bad idea,” she mumbled into the cushion. “Go for a walk, they said. It’ll help you get back on your feet, they said.”

“Do I need to be worried you’re talking to a demon from another dimension again?”

Zena turned over and smiled at her girlfriend as she peeked her head out of the bedroom. “Just lamenting my recovery,” she replied. “Being murdered by Beryl didn’t hurt this much.”

Ami winced and walked over. “I’ll have to take your word for it… Can I sit?”

“Always.”

Ami gently lifted Zena’s legs, sitting down and putting them on top of her lap. She ran her hand up and down one of Zena’s calves, causing Zena to grin and squirm a little.

“That tickles,” she said through a laugh, but she made no effort to pull away.

Before Ami could respond, her phone dinged with a new message. She checked her phone, then turned to Zena. “Your mom wants to know if now’s a good time to bring by some food and see how you’re doing. She thought you might be sleeping.”

Zena sighed contently. “No, now’s good,” she replied. Slowly, she began to sit up, only to freeze in place. “God, I hope she wasn’t the one cooking anything.”

Ami snorted and messaged back, trying to ignore her girlfriend’s soft chant of “please let it be Pa’s food, please let it be Pa’s food, please let it be Pa’s food.”

“Your Grandma Martha made a casserole.”

“Oh thank God, that’s even better.”


End file.
